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By Marie Pierce Warner. 


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COPYRIGHT, 1910, 

BY MARIB pierce: V/ARNEIR, 

LAMAR, MISSOURI- 


ALLRIGHTS RESEIRVEID. 



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MISSOURI. 

My Missouri — dear old homestead, 

Where the days are always bright, 
Like a dream of fairy wonders 

You enthrall my heart tonight. 
I can see thy sunset glory 

Kissing valley, stream and hill. 
See thy prairies green and rolling, 

And thy forests deep and still. 

CHORUS. 

Oh my Motherland, Missouri, 
Where the days are always bright, 
I can hear thee calling, calling. 
As I dream alone tonight. 

Thou art like a radiant vision, 

Dear old Wonder-state of mine: 
I see the fields of golden grain 

That grace thy sunny clime. 
There the "Father of the Waters" 

Goes murmuring to the sea. 
There the mocking birds and thrushes 

Sing their sweet notes wild and free. 

CHORUS. 

Oh to thee my heart is turning 
With a love forever thine: 
Oh Missouri, my Missouri, 
Dear old Mother-state of mine. 

Listening, I hear the cadence 

Of thy night winds as they blow: 
See thy rosy mists of dawning 

As I knew them long ago: 
Oh Missouri, how my dreaming 

Brings again the vanished hours 
Wreathed with memory's sweetest roses, 

Land of sunlight, land of flowers. 

CHORUS. 

In Missouri, — my Missouri, 
There of all the world is home: 
Let me rest upon thy bosom 
When at last no more I roam. 



TO ArmOUiT^i 

Greeting-^ to thee, sweet violet, 
Thy petals rare with dew are wet, 
And mirrored softly on them lies 
The tints and dews of midnight skies. 

Through the long hours you rest and dream 
On a velvet couch of mosses green. 
No king could richer be, and yet. 
Thou art not vain, sweet violet. 

In God's great plan we all have place; 
Thou fillest thine with beauteous grace: 
Thy perfumed presence fills the air 
With haunting fragrance rich and rare. 

Here in thy dainty sylvan bower 

I drink to thee, sweet modest Hower. 

And on thy petals softly lies 

The tints and dews of midnight skies. 



A LITTLE FARTHER ON. 

'*A little farther on," though sad at heart, 
And weary of the load we pause to weep. 
There is a haven for the wandering feet; 

Hope whispers "You will find it farther on." 

'*A little farther on," what lies beyond we cannot know; 
'Tis ours to wait while Faith lights up the way 
And leads us on and upward day by day, 

Until at last we reach and grasp the goal. 

For life is but a struggle in the dark, 

When 'neath our burdens we are bowed to earth: 
God lifts the load when Faith is given birth: 

Hope whispers "Courage, heaven is farther on." 



WHEN LIFE WAS YOUNG. 

Love came to us when life was young, 
And many a pretty promise sung. 
He told of cloudless summer skies, 
And days of joy when trouble flies: 
Care to the wandering winds we flung, 
For you and I, sweetheart, were young. 

And you and I together, sweet. 
Set out with merry dancing feet; 
We plucked the golden daffodils. 
And loitered by the purling rills; 
We recked not of the coming years, 
Nor knew that life holds bitter tears. 

And still Love sings his roundelay 

To rose-lipped boys and maidens gay; 

As when he met us long ago 

And sang to us in lilting flow: 

Care to the wandering winds we flung. 

For you and I, sweetheart, were young. 



CHRISTMAS NIGHT. 

Merry Christmas carols 
The angels sing tonight: 

In the far-off azure heavens 
The twinkling stars are bright. 

The earth is robed in splendor 
With hoar-frost's dazzling gleam. 

And flaxen heads in trundle beds 
Have many a happy dream. 

Then sing a song of gladness, 
As the angels do tonight; 

For Christ was born at Christmas, 
Oh keep his memory bright. 



ALICE, 

Sweet Alice gave a kiss to me, 

Beneath the budding thorn, 
When we together strolled away 

That golden Sabbath morn. 
I held her little hand in mine, — 
Ah well a day for Old Lang Syne. 

There Alice gave her promise true 

That she would waiting be 
When I should homeward come again 

Across the bounding sea. 
How sweet the troth she pledged to me 
Beneath the budding hawthorn tree. 

The years fled on: far far away 
My good ship roamed the sea; 

With true and faithful heart my love 
Waited in vain for me; 

Pale grew the roses in her cheek 

And sad her once blithe voice and meek. 

I did not know: for me the cup 
Of life was full and brimming o'er. 

At last I came again. Ods grief! 
My Alice pined for me no more: 

Her flawless soul to God returned, — 

With what unbounded woe I yearned. 

Bowed with the years I walk alone 

Adown the path flower-grown as then, 

And pause beneath the hawthorn tree 
That sheds its fragrance o'er the glen: 

There 'neatb the never-changing skies 

Faithful and true my Alice lies. 



WHEN YOUTH AND LOVE WENT STROLLING. 
Youth and Love one summer morn 

Met with happy laughter, 
Nor knew each rose hath e'en its thorn, 
Or of heart-pricks that come after. 

So Youth and Love that summer morn 
Walked bravely forth together: 

They met a beggar maid forlorn, 
Who strolled among the heather. 

Light as a thistle in the wind. 
Youth bade her cease repining; 

Quoth he, ''If one has proved unkind, 
Your cloud has a silver lining. 

For Love who walks beside me here 

Can bring thy heart's desire; 
Say but the word, there's naught to fear." 

And gayly touched his lyre. 

Then Love, all smiling, fair and sweet, 
Bowed low and drew his arrow; 

It flew unerring, true and neat, 
As straight as any sparrow. 

A strolling minstrel caught the shaft; 

He pleased the maiden's fancy. 
And Youth and Love unwitting laughed, 

Nor recked the fate of Nancy. 

For lo! poor maid, her heart anew 
Was glowing with Love's potion; 

A strolling minstrel's seldom true, — 
A slave to passing notion. 

But Youth and Love, the careless elfs, 

Went coyly on together, 
And left the beggar-maid and man 

To stroll among the heather. 



THE MEASURE OF LIFE. 

The tide of life in its onward flow, 
Ebbs not till we reach our journey's end. 
But on and on we must ever go, 
And what is before us we cannot know, 
We can only take what God may send. 

The clock on the wall tells the moments out, 

The golden moments that quickly Hy: 

Oh who can tell what it's all about, 

The hope and the sorrow, the trouble and doubt, 

But there is no waiting, the years flit by. 

Oh it's not by the clock, or the ebbless tide 
Our lives are measured for good or ill. 
'Tis the love that comes in our hearts to bide 
And kindness o'er shadows all else beside 
In the deathless measure that we must fill. 



THE CITY OF THE DEAD. 

Oh silent, peaceful city of the dead. 
Where lie thy tenants wrapt in dreamless sleep: 
Earth's little cares cause them no more to weep 
Who lie with marble shaft at foot and head. 

They who have entered here have rent the veil, 
They know the mystery, but they are dumb. 
Deaf to our pleading, cold and still they come 
To wait the end of time within thy pale. 

With reverent step and silent lips I come, 

I thread my way where lengthening shadows fall, 

And in my fnusings ask if this is all, 

Death, and the narrow bed within the tomb. 



SOME DAY FM COMING BACK TO YOU. 

The flowers are gently waving 

In the breezes to and fro, 
And the stars are softly shining in the sky: 

Oh the mellow moonlight beams 

Upon the river's gentle flow, 
As it did that night, sweetheart, we said goodby. 

CHORUS. 

Oh of you tonight I'm thinking, 

Dear I love you just as then, 
And some day I am coming back to you: 

I can hear your sweet voice murmur, 

As I did long years ago, 
* 'Goodby my love, to you I will be true." 

The days have passed so swiftly 

They are like a haunting dream; 
Long the busy world has kept me from your side: 

But of you tonight I'm thinking, 

And our parting by the stream. 
When you promised that some day you'd be my bride. 

We were boy and girl together 

When our troth we plighted there. 
Still I see your golden hair and eyes of blue: 

I have never loved another, 

I have never ceased to care. 
And some day I am coming back to you. 



A TOAST. 

Here's to youth and happy laughter! 

Here's to love and love's sweet song! 
Quaf^ the wine and break the goblet, 

Speed today, tomorrow come. 
Life is King and we his vassals. 

Dance the merry hours away. 
Here's to raven curls and golden, 

Here's to happy hearts and gay. 



ASLEEP. 

Out of the house they bore him 

Into the warm sunh'ght, 
But he could not hear the birds' sweet song. 

Nor see the sun-shine bright. 

He could not answer the lips that prayed 

For only one little word, 
But smiling lay in a dreamless sleep, 

And gave no sign that he heard. 

On his silent bosom his folded hands 

Betokened sweet peace and rest; 
He had fought the fight and all was done. 

And we knew him with the blest. 

They carried him over the grassy sward 

Where daisies and violets grow, 
And placed him low in his narrow bed, 

By the brooklet's murmuring flow. 

We left him there alone to lie, 

In the shade of the cypress tree. 
And the book of his life was closed and sealed. 

Farther we could not see. 

Oh cold, dumb lips of the peaceful dead. 
Could they speak what would they say? 

Is death the end of it all, or a door 
Leading on to an endless day.'' 

Does the spirit stand beside us here 

With the shadowy mist between? 
O we cannot read the mystery 

Of the unseen and the seen. 

But why should they go so far away, 

Why can they give no sign? 
When our hearts are breaking could they but come. 

And their arms around us twine. 

It would ease the pain, and the blinding tears 

Would cease to fall like rain. 
If we only knew that they we love 

Came back to us again. 



But we lay them down to their dreamless sleep, 
Neath winter's snow and summer's sun. 

We can only say they have gone to rest, 
And the life we knew is done. 



DREAMIN' IN THE MOONLIGHT. 

Settin' dreamin' in the moonlight 

Of the days of long ago: 
Of the old familiar faces 

And the scenes I used to know. 
I am tired and sad and lonely, 

And my poor old head is white, 
But Memory gives me back my youth 

A dreamin' here tonight. 

I can hear the bees a hummin' 

In the clover meadow, still: 
See the dear old cabin homestead, 

And I hear the babblin' rill 
Callm* me to come and follow 

Through the woods and pasture lot, 
And I hear the blue-birds singin' — 

Oh there's nothing I've forgot. 

There's the little old red schoolhouse 

Nestlin' just below the hill, 
W here we used to play together, 

Tom and Joe and me and Bill: 
There was Jane and little Susan, 

But they left me long ago, 
And I have journeyed on alone 

Through weary years and slow. 

In the moonlight just a dreamin' 

My poor old tear-dimmed eyes 
Seem to see them in the glory 

They wear beyond the skies; 
And they sing to me of heaven, 

Of the joys that I shall know 
When some day they bring to me 

The word that I must go. 



10 



DO YOU CARE. 

Sweetheart of mine, my love is thine, 
On thee my thought forever dwells: 

Canst thou receive, dost thoa believe 
The story that my fond heart tells. 

CHORUS. 

Sweetheart tonight, 'tis my delight 
To dream of thee, to dream of thee, 
Of all ihe rest, I love thee best, 
Oh tell me do you care for me? 

Oh love of mine, oh love of mine, 
For thee the stars in heaven shine: 

Your sweet blue eyes reflect the skies. 

Dream of my dreams, sweetheart of mine. 

Because I care this world I'd dare, 

I'd give my very life for thee: 
For thee my own, for thee alone, 

Oh tell me do you care for me? 



SONG. 

Among the flowers at evening time, 

I met my own true lover. 
The dew lay sparkling on the grass 

And on the nodding clover. 
Through the soft silence of the dusk 

The birds' last notes came dropping 
And mingled with the tender words 

That all my pulse seemed stopping. 

Oh love is sweet at evening time 

When the shades of night are falling; 
The breeze comes softly stealing by 

And the Katydids are calling. 
Tis then among the closing flowers 

I meet my own true lover. 
Love answers love from heart to heart 

While the soft dews kiss the clover. 



11 



THE WASTED YEARS. 

Earth holds no recompense for wasted years: 
Fleetly they pass, never shall they return. 
World-old this tragedy of vain regret 
Ever renewed in human hearts: we yearn 
For hours agone that we, poor fools, might see 
With tardy knowledge how to choose our way, — 
To hold the better p irt, condemn the wrong, and so 
Fare through the years, doing our best each day. 

But youth is bold, and recks not of the end: 
Unheeding and with scorn we fling aside 
The council of the aged. Away with care. 
Life is a frolic, now let mirth abide: 
And so we dance our way with song and jest 
'Till golden days have changed to silver hue: 
And yet again the dice of change are thrown, 
And leaden shades are marshalled for our view. 

'Tis then we wake, the past a fitful dream: 
Ambition, hope, that stirred our pride are gone. 
Stripped of delusion, ashes in Memory's hand: 
Life in the vast forever waits us farther on. 
Where turn we then.? Where ask for grace to die? 
We, who have never held belief in holy things. 
The inner voice is still: black silence greets our quest: 
And yet we dare not ask relief oblivion brings. 

So we, the erstwhile slaves of Folly and Desire, 
Come in the yellow leaf to drain the lees of fear. 
Ah heaven! We ask in vain the years that ne'er return 
We cannot see beyond the shroud, the bier. 
Death points the way: follow we must, and then 
What meed of transport or of misery awaits? 
Eternity is dumb, and we, groping, must bid 
Goodby to wasted years, and pass beyond the gates. 



12 



TWILIGHT SONG. 

Come to me baby, the twilight is creeping 
Over the mountain and into the vale; 

See the white moon riding high in the heavens 
And the myriad star-s all glimmering pale. 

Over the hills the meek cows are lowing, 

In from the sea the soft winds are blowing. 

Birds in the tree tops are chirping and calling 
Sleepy goodnights to the dew laden flowers. 

You, little baby, must come and be resting, 
Dream like the roses through the long hours. 

Nature is hushing her children to sleep, 

While over the mountains the blue shadows creep. 

Dusky and deep the night-shades have fallen. 
Far o'er the sea the gallant ships ride. 

Higher the white moon sails in the heaven, 

And throws its soft sheen on the incoming tide. 

Like sentinel guards the bright stars are gleaming: 

Sleep little baby, sweet peace to thy dreaming. 



JANUARY. 

January, bright and merry, 

How your winds do blow: 
Laughing girls with flying curls 

Go tripping through the snow. 

Red-cheeked boys with lightsome joys 

Pull their sleds along; 
A noisy chase, a breathless race, 

When the school-bell rings ding-dong. 

January, bright and merry. 

How your winds do blow: 
Girls and boys, with youth's sweet joys. 

Love your flying snow. 



ROSES. 

I gazed in the glowing heart of a rose, 

Nor a symbol sought in vain: 
It spoke to me of battles of blood, 

And the red, red, horror of pain. 
I saw the passion of wanton love 

In the heart of the crimson rose, 
The stain that is left on ruined lives 

By this author of human woes. 

I turned from the red to a flower of light, 

Ivory-tinted, pure and sweet: 
It held the beauty of maiden life 

Ere its joys fade and fleet. 
No record of wrong in its snowy depths 

Was writ on its satin sheen. 
The thoughts that breathed in the fair white rose 

Were pure as an angel's dream. 



A WINTER IDYL. 

The budded leaf, where in the germ of life 

Is folded close, holds to the parent tree, 
While winter winds in howling angary blasts 

Blow from the far north lands, like spirits wild and free. 

And under-neath the mold the hidden flowers 
Covered from harm are sleeping calm and still; 

When the warm sun of spring kisses the earth again. 
Sweet miracles of bloom shall wake on every hill. 

Down from the sad gray skies the whirling snow-flakes fall 
Hither, thither and yon, fairy sprites of the air; 

Out of the inflnite spaces, angel-white they come, 

And the world is robed in beauty, sparkling every-where. 



14 



THE ANGEL AND THE FLOWERS. 

An angel sought to gather 

Earth's fairest, sweetest flowers. 

He came in the soft cool morning 
And trod in sylvan bowers. 

He passed by ferns and roses 

And lillies tall and white; 
He sought among earth's gardens 

For flowers yet more bright. 

He paused by a swaying cradle, 

Where a baby lay and slept. 
And while he lingered a shadow 

In through the door-way crept. 

The baby stirred and wakened, 
And reached up its tmy hands: 

The angel stooped and gathered it close 
Snapping the frail life bands. 

The mother singing softly 

The swaying cradle beside, 
Felt the cold, gray, misty shadow. 

And saw that her babe had died. 

Oh the wail of her anguished weeping! 

For the flower of her heart was gone. 
God heard her wild abandon 

Through the pearly gates of dawn. 

And he summoned the angel to him 

And bade him wait and hear 
How her heart was wrung with sorrow 

For the baby she held so dear. 

Then down from the cloudless heaven 

The angel came once more. 
And made his way through the haunts of men 

Till he stood at the mother's door. 

He entered with noiseless footsteps, 

A shining presence of grace. 
But he could not look on the anguish 

That dwelt in the mother's face. 



15 



Then Mary, Mother of Jesus, 

With tender, pitying heart 
Opened the gates of heaven 

And left them just apart. 

The baby slipped out through the portals 

Radiant, white and fair, 
And the mother whispered **My little Earth-flower 

Is an angel of hght up there.'* 



THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT. 
The spirit of Christmas abroad on the air 

Makes the weary old world glad and young: 
It throws off its burden of sorrow and care 
That through the long year becomes heavy to bear 

When songs of the Christ-Child are sung. 

The Babe in the manger at Bethlehem lay 

And over the east flamed a star: 
The angel appeared to the Shepherds to say 
A Savior and King was born this day 

And the three wise men journeyed afar. 

Oh the gifts that they broaght were fragrant and rare; 

To the Babe in the manger they came, 
And the song of the angels burst forth on the air. 
The gold and the jewels burned lustrous and fair, 

To herald His undying fame. 

And over the earth each glad Christmas night 

The spell of the angels is flung; 
We open our hearts to the Spirit of Light, 
Our faces are smiling and joyous and bright, 

When the sweet chimes of Christmas are rung. 



16 



CHRISTMAS EVE. 
There are little stockings hanging 

In corners warm and bright 
Waiting for Santa's coming 

With his reindeer sleigh tonight. 
Oh the dreams of Christmas wonders 

That dance through curly heads 
While the children are warmly sleeping 

Tucked up in their wee white beds. 

Old Santa Claus on his journey 

Starts from his palace of snow 
With twinkling eyes and merry face 

And heart with love aglow. 
He flies over land and water 

Swift as a bird on the wing, 
Oh the beautiful toys and playthings 

He is making such haste to bring. 

Ah, this is the merry Christmas, 

That we, Earth's favored, know: 
But heaven pity the others — 

Children of want and woe — 
Who dwell in garret and hovel 

With wretched rags for a bed. 
And never a thought of Christmas toys 

But only a prayer for bread. 

Joy shuns the house of sorrow 

Where are broken toys on the floor, 
And an empty cradle waiting 

For the child who comes no more; 
Oh the lonely, lonely mothers. 

Whose tears fall fast tonight 
For the little loved lost darlings 

Who were their hearts' delight. 

Let us whose children are sleeping 

Tucked warm in a wee white bed 
Remember the countless thousands 

Who only ask for bread. 
Let us give them of our bounty. 

Give hope that they knew not before: 
For that is the will of the Christ-Child, 

The friend of the hungry poor. 



17 



May the pitying Son of Mary 

Who knoweth our care and pain 
Bring peace to the sorrowing mothers 

Whose hot tears fall like rain. 
Oh the dear little stockings hanging 

In corners warm and bright 
Waiting for Santa's coming 

With his reindeer sleigh tonight. 



FORSAKEN. 

I am lonely and sad, 

But there's no one to see 
No one to know or to care: 

No one to give 

One thought to me, 
And life seems hard to bear. 

CHORUS. 

No one to love me, 

No one to kiss: 

No little baby hands hold mine: 

No one to greet me 

With rapturous bliss, 

No little arms to entwine. 

Once I was pure 

As the white, white snow. 
And dwelt in my own sweet home. 

But I strayed and was lost 

And I've no where to go, 
I'm a wanderer sad and alone. 

There's no one to share 

My burden of woe, 
No one to bid me come in: 

Cast out, forsaken, 

I've no where to go. 
Save to the highways of sin. 



18 



Some day the angels 

Will open the door 
And pardon and peace they shall hold; 

There I shall rest me 

And sorrow no more 
In the beautiful city of gold. 



THE LAST FAREWELL TO MOTHER. 

Come sit beside me mother dear 
Lay your hand upon my brow. 

The angels soon will come for me, 
I hear them calling now. 

Across the void of darkness 

Low and sweet and clear; 
They sing to me of heaven, 

And they bid me feel no fear. 

The river rolls before me, 

Upon its brink I stand 
And they wait to bear me over 

To the bright and happy land. 

Draw me closer, closer, mother. 
Lay my head upon your breast: 

You have been my refuge ever, 
In your arms I fain would rest. 

I would not leave you here alone 

But mother I must go. 
Oh how the parting wrings my heart 

Because I love you so. 

Farewell, farewell, a long farewell 
Speaks from my weary heart: 

One last sweet kiss, one last goodbye 
Ere we forever part. 



19 



'TIS LONG AGO SWEETHEART. 
'Tis long ago sweetheart of mine 

That you and I were young 
But still sometimes the mystic bells 

Of memory are rung. 
And from the dim vaults of the past 

Are ushered forth again; 
The sun-bright hours of youth and love 

That held no hint of pain. 

One day we never can forget 

When you and I together 
Went rambling o'er the daisy fields 

And o'er the blossoming heather. 
Tawny gold as ripened corn 

Your hair gleamed in the sun; 
Your eyes were blue as violets 

When day is just begun. 

We heard the lark's glad morning song, 

The sweet hum of the bees; 
The wind swept grass, an emerald sea, 

Danced in the scented breeze: 
Just like two children, you and I, 

With young hearts glad and gay: 
We wove our dreams of silver mist. 

Nor guessed they would not stay. 

When low behind the purple hills 

The sun had sunk to rest, 
You shyly came to lay your head 

Upon my throbbing breast. 
The wonder, sweet, the joy of life, 

That day we two were wed. 
And to our own rose-bowered cot 

Our homeward footsteps led. 

Still there's a song within our hearts 

Far sweeter than the larks' glad lay, 
Together, love, and hand in hand 

We wander down life's sunset way. 
Perhaps in that bright other world 

Are fields where we may roam 
When we have lost the weight of years 

And God has called us home. 



20 



LIFE'S SUNSET WAY. 

Well Sarah, my wife, I have lived to see 

Nigh on to sixty year; 
The beginnin's a mighty long way back 

Though the end may not be near: 
Still I am gettin' childish I know, 

And my heart sorto' shivers with dread, 
For I'm nearing the sunless winter of age. 

And I long for the days that are dead. 

It seems to me when the shadows fall, 

And the stars come out in the sky, 
When the cows come lowin' over the fields 

And the birds go skimmin' by — 
I can feel the touch of unseen wings, 

A whisper of things to be, 
A beautiful liftin' out o' myself 

When the unknown calls to me. 

I forget the years of our grindin' toil — 

That my hands are horny and brown, 
And glorious beauties I seem to see. 

As the darkness comes slippin' round. 
Though the children left us long ago — 

God's pity! we have not one — 
I see them there, in visions fair, 

When the weary day is done. 

Ah well, sweetheart, the dreams flit by: 

Together we've come so far; 
And we'll still press on to the waiting goal. 

With their love as our guiding star. 
Sometime, somewhere, the dream will come, 

To pass no more away: 
And the dusky twilight will settle deep, 

To lighten on endless day. 



21 



THE OUTCAST'S STORY. 
You ask me whence these worn white cheeks, 

These weary eyes where lurk no brightening gleam: 
And well you may: my very soul is sick. 

Would I were resting where I could not dream. 

But no, — my child, — you do not know the tale — 
For her sweet sake I will not, cannot die: 

I must endure this life more like to death, 
To guard and watch, to only be near by. 

The canker woe that feeds upon my heart 

No balm will heal, for there love died in pain: 

My youth's first love, grown strong with passing years 
That burned I thought with an enduring flame. 

But stay, — I do not know, perhaps my love was false, 

A bastard nursling 'dopted unaware, 
'Shrined by my foolish heart in rainbow dreams, 

And fed and nourished by its doting care. 

Ah well, though blind of soul I was so happy then, 
With youth's sweet hopes and our fair, darling child 

And he who held me, body, soul and mind, 
Was kind to us and tender, ever mild. 

I knew so little of the arts of love. 

The breath of passion I had never known; 

But vaguely now and then disquiet came, 

As though my idol's mask aside were thrown. 

Still he could lull me back to dreaming sleep 

Warmed by the love that dwelt within my breast, 

I thought that depth of sweetness was his own 
And in elysian peace I lay at rest. 

His years were double mine, and he was worn, 
Tired with life's struggle, and the searing steel 

Of gross ingratitude had touched his soul: 
Abiding faith and trust he could not feel. 



22 



There came a time when my heart asked return: 
I could not as a glove put love now off, now on, 

As he seemed wont to do: but he was stern. 

Nay angry, and I knew the fount was over drawn. 

Such love as he had giv'n was like a woodland burn 
Shallow and devious: mine was like the sea, 

And had my idol shown no feet of clay 

Would have lived on forever, fed on fantasy. 

So he awakened me with bitter shock. 

By his own words I learned what I had 'gan to fear, 
My house of painted cards in ruins lay, 

I stood bereft of all that I held dear. 

For he was powerful and strong, and had 

Wealth and a will of iron to work his own desires: 

I would not stay where love was not, 'twas sin. 
To keep our child he swore by Hades' fires. 

Oh home I loved! Oh child of mine own flesh! 

And him upon whose tolerance I lived so long. 
Some times by stealth I gaze on that calm happiness, 

An outcast, I, though I have done no wrong. 



A SONG OF THE TUB. 

I'm a poor old washwoman. 

And hard is my lot, 
But of this I am certain 

God hasn't forgot: 
He keeps me from harm 

And a song of the tub 
I sing as I labor 

Rub a dub dub. 



23 



CHORUS. 

Oh it*s rab a dub dub 

And it's rub a dub dub, 
In sunshine and shadow 

I clean and I scrub, 
And while I am toiling 

Rub a dub dub 
I cheerily sing 

A song of the tub. 

There are thousands of people 

Much poorer than I, 
Too lazy to work 

And not fit to die; 
But for all of their leisure 

I'd not give my place, 
And till the Lord calls me 

I'll stay in the race. 

My feet they are weary, 

My old hands are worn; 
It might have been better 

If I'd never been born; 
But smce I am here 

I don't try to shirk, 
And life as I know it 

Is nothing but work. 

A poor old washwoman 

I sing at my tub, 
Keeping time with an unceasing 

Rub a dub dub. 
I am weary and worn 

And sad is my lot, 
But of this lam certain — 

God hasn't forgot. 



